Friday 8 September 2017

Anticipating Stirling service ...

... from a weekend at Bloody Scotland, and discovering again how wide your selection of a single winner from among this week's gut-churning entries. Unavoidable with a word like entrails, in the mix but I anticipate you'll manage just as well with the following

prompt words for next week: bland chime perpetual

Entries by midnight Thursday 14th September, words posted Friday 15th September


Usual rules: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir. Serialised fiction is, as always, welcome. All variants and use of the words and stems are fine. Feel free to post links to your stories on Twitter or Facebook or whichever social media you prefer.

81 comments:

  1. Ellis 006

    “Oh, Ellie. That, still? Kurt Petersson is a boring workaholic with nothing else in his life!”
    I thought he was dangerously bland, a case of still waters running deep. And he did look like a knitting pattern man, which definitely chimed with me. Chiselled jaw and looking into the distance.
    “Ha Jasper, you can talk. You’re still holding a candle for the perpetually smug Jessica, aren’t you?”
    “Jessica isn’t sending me into dangerous situations though,” he pointed out. Correctly, damn him.
    “I’m sure Kurt didn’t think I’d be drugged!”
    “Where is he now? Not exactly looking out for you, eh?”

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    Replies
    1. Well, this certainly flows with seemingly effortless dialog - the mark of a true craftsman. Love 'Correctly, damn him.'

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    2. Thanks John, I'm not sure where this series came from and how far the dialogue can go - I'm much more used to descriptive mood pieces - but I'm enjoying this journey so far!

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    3. What that song..."The Things We Do For Love"? Nice, dialog and a slowdown pace. Good prompt use.

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    4. I think the way you sprinkled description in with the dialog was very effective. I try to do that but it's not easy.

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    5. I'd say your experiment with dialogue succeeded in spades.

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    6. good solid instalment, love the way the dialogue moves it on so smoothly.

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    7. Smooth, effortless dialogue. I really enjoyed their banter.

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    8. Very nicely done. Like I've said before, the dialogue between these two characters is magic. Another fine installment.

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  2. Altered Persuasion

    “Perpetual blandness?” Megan stood, tears welling, the iPad falling to the floor. “Thanks a lot Charlie. Thanks a fucking lot.”

    He shoved his trembling hands in his pockets. “Sorry, but who gave you permission to hack my email?” His tablet chimed. He reached for it but Megan was quicker.

    “It’s you slut,” Megan said as a sneer rippled beneath her mottling skin and her ever-changing eyes narrowed. Her hair reddened and fizzed as he watched. Charlie backed away and Megan pounced, her dripping claws displayed.

    His mother told him many times… never disenchant a banshee.

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    Replies
    1. Well she seems anything but bland! I like the hair fizzing as she changes

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    2. Well a banshee's hair would be hard to style, beiong incorporal. Interesting even if I though it was Megan who was bald, though it does make sens eat the end. An enjoyable story.

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    3. Strikes me Megan's a little over-sensitive ... but Charlie deserved it with that comment.

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    4. it was a bit nasty, wasn't it, that comment, obviously he wasn't the type to remember mother's advice before it all goes wrong...

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    5. Loved the phrase 'a sneer rippled beneath her mottling skin'.

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    6. And that's what Charlies gets for not listening to his mother. What a very inventive tale and use of the prompt words. A banshee...would never have occurred to me to go that route!

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    7. "Charlies" should, of course, be "Charlie"!!!

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  3. Insatiable Birdie

    Life had no purpose before the little bird.

    Bob and dip.
    Bob and dip.

    At the chiming of certain hours, they bring meals.

    "Perpetual motion," says one.
    "No such thing," says the other.
    "Still, calming effect."
    "Oh yes. Monotonous but calming."

    I offer the bird some food. He shows no interest. Perhaps it is too bland? Most everything here is too bland. Not the little bird though. Never the little bird.

    And he does share my water.

    Bob and dip.
    Bob and dip.

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    Replies
    1. How different this story is, the bobbing mechanical bird(I hope!)Very good dialog.

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    2. I remember those dipping birds from some class I took in college. Something about thermodynamics or fluid mechanics or some such study. I think the word 'perpetual' prompted you well on this interesting little piece. How do you think of these things?

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    3. A clever reaching for something different, which you do so well; ditto the incorporation of subtle menace.

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    4. oh yes, the bobbing birds! I had totally forgotten them. Nice little piece of nasty, if you see what I mean.

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  4. Letters I’ve Written


    Dear Boss;
    How many times must the toll chime? Does this helps with the game? Do you like my new ink? It’s not as bland as that in my first letter. Cathy E. surely looks more like her mother, now that her ears are cropped. The issue was who they were with. Married men are so bland. To create perpetual fear, requires a leather apron.
    I won’t be interrupted again, so the time to catch me if you can is getting short. My spirit feels a call from across the pond, to where the river falls.

    My name;
    It’s Jackie!

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    Replies
    1. Interesting letter. A little confusing but a controlled confusion that added to the mystery.

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    2. a tad tangled but I think I got the idea!

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    3. Conjures images of "Saucy Jack" and his taunting of the police force. The Ripper has always held a certain fascination for me, probably because he was never caught and there are so many theories as to his identity. I love a good mystery!

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  5. Kursaal (Episode Eighty Seven) - "Twittering's Torpor"

    Since returning to work at the local police station, Chief Constable Twittering languished in perpetual apathy and offered no explanation regarding his absence from duty. Never particularly charismatic, his personality was now decidedly bland.

    He brightened once a week only, every Sunday when the clock chimed noon and Ludmilla Bartók from the Kursaal's First Aid Station arrived to check on his recovery. She came bearing a thermos of olive leaf tea and packet of plain digestive biscuits, both of which he eagerly accepted.

    She seemed pleased with his progress.

    "He is recuperating nicely."

    Twittering's colleagues were not so sure.

    ---------------------------------------------------------
    To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale, please visit:
    http://www.novareinna.com/kursaal.html
    A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
    ---------------------------------------------------------


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    1. Not sure I'd like olive leaf tea, but if Ludmilla was bringing it, I'd certainly partake. Loved how you ended this, with Twittering's progress up in the air. Lot's of room now for anything to happen.

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    2. An enjoyable vignette, though just what are digestive biscuits? Very good flow.

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    3. Oh poor Jeffrey - not knowing the delights of digestive biscuits!! and this such an easily-digestible vignette.

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    4. digestive biscuits are a very old brand of English biscuits, heavy on the wheat... and always good with tea.
      As this vignette is!

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  6. Poe

    “tapping at my chamber door,” Mrs. Walker's voice droned on, monotone and bland.

    It is my favorite poem and she was butchering it. My hands curled white knuckled, pressed tight against my denim thighs. I bit the inside of my cheek, allowing my thoughts to meander, as her perpetual insistence of reading aloud to the class, bored me to tears.

    Turning inward, the image of Poe’s pendulum swaying towards her bloated belly entertained me. Just as the honed edge wisped at her flesh, the lunch bell chimed.

    I held back a guff, as instantly I thought, “Saved by the bell.”

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    Replies
    1. I always liked Poe and your entry is no exception. The honed edge wisped at her flesh is a good line.

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    2. Another out-of-the box use of the prompts - very smoothly done.

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    3. clever, bringing the old into the new. Liked this a lot.

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    4. Love the references to the works of Poe. Very imaginative and well put together. This was a most unusual piece, which makes it something of a standout.

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  7. Change of focus [252]

    Long-inured to the bland, media-brushed projection of governmental politicians and their perpetual Julian optimism DI John Pettinger equally knew that had Morgan Senior’s lack of education been anything other than pretence the Honourable Lois wouldn’t for one moment have been tempted to marry him. Had to assume her desire for a genuine bit of rough chimed with his for – for what? Money? Prestige? Whichever, she – too old for a Yummy Mummy – was unlikely to permit her only son being thrown to the likes of Agnew and the Mayhews.
    ‘No can do, Sir. He’ll come before the magistrates in the morning.’



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    Replies
    1. nice prompt use here, Sandra, and the story holds interest even after all these instalments.

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    2. Good flow and yet I'm not sure if Pettinger is thinking out of regret or relief. A very enjoyable continuation.

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    3. And the prompts blend so well as to be virtually invisible. How you have managed to maintain the intrigue and heightened level of interest for 252 episodes is amazing. You have my admiration. I seriously doubt either of my little efforts will make it anywhere near as far without becoming dull...dull..and totally dull.

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    4. Thank you Patricia, but you haven't managed it (to becoe dull) in 113 episodes of Cripplegate Junction.

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  8. Cripplegate Junction/Part 113 - Vanishings

    Christopher's undesirable qualities included perpetual chiming in adult conversations and a tendency to go missing. The latter had occurred again. He had not been seen in awhile.

    It was rumoured the Sanitarium sisters were planning a Wonderland theme party and needed a Dormouse to inhabit Violet's empty tea urn. Could this be why Christopher had disappeared? When questioned, however, the sisters' expressions were bland and their eyes vacant.

    Marmalade, busy perfecting his own role in the proceedings (fading bit-by-bit à la The Cheshire Cat), likely knew much. But, ever inscrutable, gave away nothing and concentrated on fine-tuning his enigmatic grin.

    --------------------------------------------------------
    To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit:
    http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
    A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
    ---------------------------------------------------------

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    Replies
    1. The ever-inscrutable MArmalade!

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    2. this is cleverly done. Liked this very much.

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    3. Yes, clever and intricate in your layout and flow. Nice prompt use and yet subtlely done.

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  9. Puppet Gallery-2

    “David, I saw this little shop yesterday. They had Lucky Packs, a bag with a stated value but unknown contents.”
    “Like our boys writing Kalvan, you never really know what’s in it.”
    “Our boy’s writing isn’t bland.”
    “Is being perpetually convoluted a blessing?”
    “He writes from his dreams, is that his fault?”
    “He knows the audience and ignores them.”
    “Is the writer driven by the audience or the audience driven by the writer?”
    “Do you mean is the writer driven by the masses or by the desire to win?”
    “I mean in order to win, why should a writer write?”

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    Replies
    1. Enigmatic questions, indeed. And though well written, I felt a certain disconnect from what was "going down." Nonetheless, I look forward to seeing more of this serialization.

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  10. But better never

    When Elsie eschewed the blandness of vanilla in favour of spearmint; as a result of which she disappeared forever, would-be witnesses were too keen to punish the perpetual low-grade vandalism of local youths to offer useful evidence. Thus the peripatetic pirate ice-cream salesman took the chimes of his ice-cream van elsewhere, perpetuating many more paedophile murders before a diligent detective spotted the coincidence, put one and seventeen together and successfully, if far too late, brought him to justice.

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    Replies
    1. awesome alliteration going on here!

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    2. Not the best at definitions but would this qualify as an ode, due the alliteration? Very different and enjoyable, regardless.

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    3. Oh so very nicely done. A continuation from before, yes? I adored the first installment and love this one no less. The idea of putting "one and seventeen together" is such a great combination of words. However, I do hope the fact that the ice-cream man has been brought to justice does not mean we'll hear no more of his exploits...no matter how horrific.

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  11. Goose and gander [Threshold 181]

    The chime of two matching black-skinned, curly-headed skulls being banged together echoed from the vaulted stone of the kitchen ceiling. All the louder for my own being less than six inches away. Elbowing them, stunned, to the floor, Raven seized and pulled me upright. Checked and adjudged the blandness of my expression shock, the arrangement of my clothes indication of his timely arrival.
    ‘Perpetually priapic, the two of them,’ he muttered, delivering kicks hard enough to permanently cure them.
    ‘Unlike you,’ I unwisely responded. True for too many months.
    But what was wrong for them was definitely okay for him.

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    Replies
    1. Oh, a skull chime! Thank heavens for Raven's timing

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    2. love the start of this, the vaulted stone of the kitchen ceiling doesn't need any other description to let us know what it was like. I keep telling my writers not to indulge in over writing, many times less is so much more.

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    3. Your descriptions are excellent and it was nicely done how you fitted the characters into the story.

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    4. So much inferred here with such a subtle touch. That echoing of "skulls being banged together" from the "vaulted stone of the kitchen ceiling," is all that needs to be said in order to conjure the most vivid of pictures. Like Antonia commented, we need no other description.

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  12. Terminal Transport

    The engine idles in perpetuity. Ready and waiting. Chiming clocks and tolling bells bear witness to the inevitable passage of time. The interior of the limousine and its accoutrements may be bland, dull, unremarkable or colourful, vibrant, even gaudy. Passenger's choice for the final fare.


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    Replies
    1. there's such a sense of doom in this!

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    2. Ugh. Cloying, in its nastiness.

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    3. I hope that means you found something of value in it, Sandra. :)

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    4. Is this Charon the limousine driver instead of a ferryman? How wonderfully possed and written.

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  13. Night Walkers
    Moonlight sharp enough to cut, chimes loud enough to deafen, people bland enough to be ignored – what will I find when I go walking this eve, searching for those for whom life is a perpetual drain, ones that would rather end it but don’t know how or don’t have the nerve. Or am I making excuses for taking their breath for myself and their blood for my partner… not too often, not too many from the same place, not – oh I tire of the ‘nots’, tonight I break the rules, self imposed as they are, to take what I want…

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    1. Some nights, some tines, are just like that ...

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    2. Wonderful character study. This counts among one of your best stand-alones in my opinion. Love the statement regarding tiring of the "nots." I'm sure we've all been there!

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    3. A marvelously written ode to the frustration of rules. I enjoyed the multiple reads each time.

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  14. The Mad Italian 22.
    There is a sense that those in power will perpetually be arguing amongst themselves no matter what you do, say or think. You have no power over those who work beneath he – now silent –chimes of the great clock. In truth, these people are bland, interchangeable, unimaginative, what else can I say about faceless politicians? Those who had stature and influence have gone from your lives, to join our pressure group. It’s a shame no one is listening to us, if they were, your whole way of life would improve overnight. Sound impossible? Trust me, it is.

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    1. Playing politics ... ad infinitum.

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    2. There's not much I can say about the Mad Italian's observations that I haven't already reiterated time and time again. I await his wisdom every week and he never disappoints.

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    3. One can only listen to what one understands and chooses to. Another very good installment.

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  15. Just Another Friday

    The girl was unmemorable from her pale, slicked-back hair, to the straight line of her mouth, to the perfectly buttoned dress that skimmed the tops of stocking-covered knees. I would have dismissed her all-together, save for the preternatural stillness with which she stood by the wall.

    My eye watched hers as the door’s chime sounded, and her dead brown eyes shot sideways. The movement was so fast, so unexpected, that I nearly missed the dagger slide from her sleeve into her hand.

    I sighed, drained my bland beer, and reached for my gun. Life really was a perpetual hunt.

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    Replies
    1. 'Bland beer' a wickedly accurate combination. Well done.

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    2. Executed (ahem) with your usual flair for the dramatic and totally unexpected. I didn't see the end coming. And, by the way, the description of the girl was vivid and memorable...regardless of your opening words to the contrary.

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    3. Was he the hunted or just another hunter? Reminded me of Spy vs. Spy from Mad magazine. Excellent use of prompts.

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  16. The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #94
    Information and Explosives


    Again we hunt. The Lords of Storm, with their perpetual threats, have warranted a mission. Natasha is winging across the desert, following the faint chime of the trams. Today we’re a post ship and a bland-faced postmistress. We’re not lying about carrying packages, the rest, well, that’s for us to know.

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    Replies
    1. Sounds like leaving a salt block out for deer. Another very good story Rosie. Enjoyable and flowing.

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    2. I so much admire your ability to create an epic adventure in so very few words - this a prime example.

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